How To Survive The First Night
by AllWhy
Summary: Limon fic, with deep in depth plot that I hope you enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

Welcome to the first long running fic that'll be uploaded to this site!

TFN is a Limon fic, majority of which should be typically SFW - with, added swearing just about everywhere.

Hopefully you guys enjoy it! So let's get going!

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"We can't even share a bed in Minecraft! How are we going to do this in… real life?"

Simon was particularly startled by Lewis' anger on the situation. He seemed to be worked up tonight - and rightly so. The entire day had been a tundra of stress for the pair; first, having a four hour delay on their last minute flight to LA, and now, having this shitty hotel fuck up their reservations, and leaving them trapped in a room with not two single beds as they expected, but one double.

This had never been the plan. Simon, Lewis, Hannah, Duncan and Turps had all originally agreed that they should all fly out from Heathrow as one, unified group. Though, it seems that plans can never really be set in stone with these lot. A week before said journey, Simon and Lewis were both asked if they could attend a short meeting with their new game developers on the day that they were meant to depart for LA. As an 11am, short meeting, the duo considered the trip to be perfectly possible, and in fact, considerably reasonable taking into account that Heathrow would only be a short distance away. However, they would certainly need to change their flight, and found it much simpler to book another hotel room too. It wasn't a big deal - there was another flight to Los Angeles the same day in the afternoon, and the new hotel was far cheaper than the one they would've been staying in with the other Yogs. Hannah set up a proposal that they should all still meet on the first day of E3, early in the morning so they could still spend the entirety of the trip together. To the boys, it was all one big blessing. Everything sorted, right? Well; the meeting itself was perfectly useless, considering the developers had found a considerably, and surprisingly large amount of major pitfalls in their new game. Simon and Lewis, now put in a rather deflated mood had to cope with the sudden plane delay, and now, finally getting into LA to see that the hotel staff were completely unhelpful, incompetent employees.

"I'm fucking calling them again" Lewis bellowed, pacing anxiously around the room, sometimes darting an eye towards the landline telephone.

"Lewis, they've already told us they're out of rooms." Simon's words were slurred from his tiredness. "Look, it's a small place, and we're insignificant, mindless tourists in their eyes. This is America; I mean what were we expecting? Really?"

Simon's attempt at trying to make Lewis feel better was unsuccessful. His prejudice jokes on their videos might work for their audience, but Lewis knew the truth in the matter. They both loved LA, and only played on the stereotypical jokes to try and lighten the mood when it desperately needed to be.

"Sorry man but I'm not getting into bed with you. It's weird to me. And how can you even be ok with this?" The volume in his voice had lowered, but certain vowel sounds still spat out towards Simon.

"I'm NOT ok with this. It's weird to me too. But you know what? I'm fucking knackered. And when we wake up at 9am to get ready for the conference, which is 6 hours away may I remind you, we can sort out this shit and go find a room at the others hotel, alright? If you honestly can't cope with sharing a bed for half of a night, then you're sleeping on the floor cause the bed's mine." It had been Simon's first reaction to jump under the covers of the bed as soon as they had entered the room. As Lewis had been frantically running down to the front desk, trying to contact the other Yogs in their hotel room, doing anything he could to make this situation disappear somehow, Simon had not moved one inch under his duvet.

"It's still fucking WEIRD Simon. If you were a girl it would be different, you know?" Lewis proclaimed, still pacing anxiously around the room.

"Oh so now you're wishing I was a girl. Secret feelings starting to arise there Lewis?"

"Seriously not the time to joke about that shit Simon." The amount of trolling YouTube comments, and accusations from their friends, all noticing how gay the two always seemed to act towards each other didn't usually get on their nerves considering how comfortable they felt with their heterosexuality; but with the amount of stress Lewis was now under, he'd have to forget about his troubled mind if he was even going to get a chance to have some kind of rest.

"Alright, well shut up and go to sleep then. I don't care how, just fucking stop your pacing and at least let me sleep. The corridor is all yours if your feet need it."

Lewis exhaled a quiet grunt as the pacing seized. The room suddenly filled with silence from the both of them. Simon kept still, placed on the right side of the bed and facing out towards the large window that overlooked the city of Los Angeles. It was dark, quiet, and the first sign of peace that the two had witnessed all day.

Lewis looked at Simon, scrunched up and warm in his covers, who had left a great portion of the bed still free for a body to claim. Lewis sighed once more in disbelief, but his tired eyes were starting to convince him that he only had one choice if he wanted to get a good nights sleep. He started to unbutton his over-shirt, while battling his leather shoes off of his sore feet. Both his belt and his socks were placed on top of his unopened suitcase, as he quietly walked over to the bed. Prying up the edge of the large duvet, he closely watched the back of Simon's head to ensure that no more fuss, or likewise, hilarity was going to be made over this ridiculous predicament. Lewis sat himself close to the edge of the bed, and threw his legs under the covers. He turned away from Simon, now resting his head firmly into the soft feathered pillow, reminding him of the calmness and tranquility he often felt in his own bed. All his worries dissolved from his mind, and he softly, and easily, fell fast asleep.

4am, and Simon hadn't had such luck. He opened his eyes, trying to peer through the blinds of the large window, wondering why he was finding it so difficult to get some rest. He didn't feel troubled, he didn't feel restless, he just felt down. A little lost. But more so than anything, he felt pretty useless. All day, he had acted like Lewis' luggage, as he always does when they're together. It's much easier for them both if Simon just follows the orders he's given. Here, take your ticket Simon. Follow me to the gate Simon. Simon you'll want to sit in this seat. Usually it all works out for the better, but tonight, he felt like he should've done more for his friend. Lewis was overly stressed, under pressure, and all Simon was able to do was force him to get some sleep after a long, hard days work. Nothing special; but there wasn't a day that went by where he didn't wish he was.

The covers started to pull on Simon as Lewis seemed to turn over in his sleep. Small murmurs erupted from behind Simon's head as the body stopped moving. He felt a little nervous. His heartbeat had actually sped up a little. There's always that childish fear of being caught wide awake when you're meant to be fast asleep, and Simon convinced himself that that's why he started to feel so alert all of a sudden. He was starting to get a little uncomfortable though. Being in the same position for the past hour was not treating his back well. With a few thoughts of courage, he too gently flipped himself round to face the center of the bed. He could now see Lewis' face in full view; his eyes softly blinking, and his lips parted. Somehow, Lewis' right hand had placed itself precisely in the centre of the two sides of the bed. His fingers were separated from each other a little, the tips poised as if they were about to lightly tug at the sheets. Simon just stared at his friends face for a moment. Motionless, and inanimate. For some reason, the free hand en captured him. He felt suddenly quite odd in that moment. Why was he staring at his sleeping friend? Why did he even want to stare? Was it just that childish curiosity taking him over again? The problem was, that the more Simon analyzed this lonesome hand, the more his own hand wanted to accompany it. With a final urge of bravery, Simon shuffled once more, pretending as if it were all automatic, unconscious movements in his sleep. With a swift gesture, his left hand successfully landed on top Lewis' in the centre of the bed. Simon tightly shut eyes in fear. But nothing happened. All was still, and with his eyes unable to operate, his fingertips became far more sensitive, increasingly being able to feel the slow warmth of Lewis's skin seep through his own. He took one final deep breath, and gently relaxed, finally being able to drift himself off to sleep. Finally, he felt at ease. Finally, comfortable.


	2. Chapter 2

Simon woke up to an empty bed. The warm sun of Los Angeles shone bright and coarse through the small slits in the blinds, with light piercing every inch of shadow that it could find in their small hotel room. Strange, how different the sun worked here - a good strange though, the right change from those lifeless mornings he was used to in England. He could hear rustling coming from the bathroom, and between his half open eyelids, kept a weary glare on the door as he tried to suss out if any movement was about to occur. He noticed how the rustling was starting to resemble brushing, as Simon imagined that Lewis had already awoken, before their alarm, fully preparing himself for a tough new day. Simon just kept on listening, still assessing the white door, trying to picture what state his friend was in behind it. Did he even get enough sleep in the end? Was he still mad? ...Had he showered already? Worst of all, did this mean that he now had to get up and get ready too, when he still had half an hour before he'd be forced to? All he wanted to do was lie there. He needed that chance to exist - the chance that Lewis would walk out that door and get straight back into bed. Just lay there with him. As much as Simon's body wanted to shut down and drift off to sleep just for a short while longer, his brain forced him to act differently. That feeling he experienced while examining his sleeping Lewis the night before still lingered with him. Only this time, there was no stimulus to drive from: only his eager imagination.

He waited. With a small, long sigh, he lay still for a moment longer. Exhausted.

A door unlatched.

"Get up Simon," Lewis's stern voice bellowed. His footsteps now thudding around the room with the same pace from the precious night. "Now."

Simon opened his left eye to a squint. He peeked around the blurry room to see Lewis, bent over and rummaging through a suitcase. His vision then became pitch black in an instance some clothes landed hard on his face.

"Ah, this is much better" Simon's voice was muffled, "I could do with a night mask right about now."

"Don't piss around today Simon."

"But that's what I do best," his voice now clear as he pulled the bundle down from his face.

"I know! But you can save what your best at when we're at the conference, but until we're there, you'll need to actually listen to me, ok?" Lewis stood in front of a tiny mirror next to his side of the bed and straightened his tie, having not looked Simon in the eye at any point. Simon sat up in the bed, wearing his creased outfit from the night before. He put on his classes to examine the clothes that now lay in front of him. Some blue jeans, and an old Yogscast T-shirt had been picked out. Both from his own suitcase.

"Sure." Simon replied.

Lewis was now on the phone to Hannah, trying to sort out the arrangements of when to meet, where, how they're going to travel, and generally planning the day in advance and hoping it would run smoothly. He let Simon do is own thing, and hoped that he'd pull himself together pretty quickly. Lewis himself wasn't a morning person, but half of the secret is just getting on with it: even if it's the very last thing you want to do.

Simon listened in from the bathroom. Everything was so quiet until his friends voice would rupture it every few seconds in reply to the phone call. Running the hot tap fiercely into the basin, Simon watched as the water spun. He could tell that Lewis was still reasonably angry from the tone in his voice, and wished he could think of a way to calm him down. In fact, he knew what would calm him down - following orders to a T. Thing is, it's just not that easy for Simon. His mind wanders so much, he often forgets what his name is, let alone what task he's meant to be doing. As the water trickled and the level rose, he couldn't help but think about his friends sleeping face. He just couldn't believe how a sight so peaceful could turn into one that got so frustrated this easily. Maybe it was all Simon's fault, he thought. Maybe he was nothing but an extra case on this baggage on this already overpriced holiday.

He splashed the water on his face. A few drops hung off his beard - others attacked his shirt. He was exhausted, but nothing was stopping him today. He was going to prove himself.

He stepped out of the bathroom, shirt still a little damp.

"Simon, good, you're ready. Put everything you got out back in your suitcase, we'll need to check out of here soon."

"There's another room booked at that hotel?"

"Not yet. I'm hoping I can sort that out when I meet up with the others." Lewis threw a backpack over one shoulder and struggled to get the other arm through the strap. "They've already left and are on their way to our booth. We'll just have to meet them there and hopefully they'll stall for us." he said, backpack finally secure.

"You're the boss," said Simon, now able to look him in the eye for the first time today.

They just stood there for a moment, looking. Lewis's expression was a dazed one, with his glasses a little crooked, failing to frame his red eyes properly. No matter how much of a fucked up situation they were in, Simon always saw the funny side of it - and in this situation, the funny side was Lewis' messed up face. He laughed in his own head, hoping Lewis would be able to see the brighter side sometime soon, and maybe even shed a smile if all went to plan. Their breathing became shallow. Simon smiled.

"What are you doing?" Lewis whispered, harshly.

Their loud alarm clock finally rung, making both the boys jump from their stare.

"Hah. Oh right. Packing."


End file.
